


get your motor runnin'

by digitalAlchemist



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Motorcycles, Sheithlentines 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17852951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalAlchemist/pseuds/digitalAlchemist
Summary: One likes motorbikes, the other likes repairing them - so when Keith's ride starts giving him issues, Shiro's shop was the perfect place to end up.





	get your motor runnin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ViperSeven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViperSeven/gifts).



> Happy Sheithlentines, viper!
> 
> You asked for a fic about falling in love and happy endings, so I hope this is to your liking. I went with a little modern AU, because who can resist a motorbike?

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

The voice came from the reception desk, muffled by the door. “Be there in a moment!”

At the desk stood a lithe young man, dressed in bike leathers, one glove hanging from his teeth where he’d pulled it off to use his phone. His eyes, a deep steel blue in colour, scanned the screen before shifting to meet Shiro’s gaze.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Shiro smiled, but the man only responded with a nod.

“No problem.” He locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Have you got any free appointments today? I was in the area and my bike’s not sounding too hot.”

“I’m not sure, we’ve had a lot of appoint-” Keith’s immediate shift in expression made him stop short; it was almost like the steel in his eyes had suddenly gone dull. “Actually, I should have something for you, let me check.” Shiro reached under the desk, grabbing a thick appointment diary and flicking it open once he’d placed it on the counter. “Let’s see… 12th October… got a slot right now, if that works for you?” He grabbed a pen and scribbled a quick note. “Can I take a name?”

“Keith.”

“Alright, Keith. Can you bring it into the bay and we’ll see what’s wrong?”

Keith nodded again, slipping his glove back on and taking his keys off the desk. He pushed out of the door, and Shiro could hear the machine struggling to start. He walked back to the garage, flicking the switch on the wall to raise the bay shutter; it shuddered into life, creaking and groaning as the early afternoon sunshine slowly bathed the interior. Keith’s scowling face came into view, eyebrows furrowed as he tried the ignition again.

“Dead engine?”

Keith sighed, pulling the keys out and throwing them at Shiro. “Seems like it.”

“Best case scenario, you’ll need a spark plug replacement. Worst case, you’ll need a new engine.” Shiro shrugged. “Won’t take me too long to find out, if you’d like to sit down for a drink?”

He pondered the question momentarily, before shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m going to take a walk, maybe grab some food.” Keith looked over at Shiro. “Is that alright?”

“Sure! If you follow the street down, and then turn right, you’ll get to the main road.” He moved to take Keith’s bike inside. “There’s plenty of places to get a bite to eat. I’ll be an hour, tops.”

“Alright, thanks…?” He lifted an eyebrow, realising the face he was looking at didn’t have a name.

“Shiro.”

“Shiro. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith smiled then, a slight quirk at the corner of his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

 

Right on cue, Keith knocked on the shutter an hour later, announcing his presence. “How’s it looking?”

Shiro looked up from his toolbox, squinting slightly at Keith’s silhouette in the sunlight. “I have good news!” He held up the old spark plug, blackened and split. “This looks to be the only issue. Have you ever had it changed?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve only had the bike for six months.” Keith walked into the garage proper, squatting down next to Shiro. “The owner said he’d given it a service…”

“It was still working, so he might not have thought to bother.” He wrapped it in some paper towel, placing it down next to the tools beside him. “I can replace it for you whilst we’re here, but I’ll have you charge you parts and labour.”

“That’s fine; I need it fixing as soon as physically possible.”

“The part’ll run you around 1,300 yen. With labour on top, the total is 4,500. That okay?” Shiro stood up, and Keith nodded. “Alright. Give me ten minutes and she’ll be up and running again.”

“Thanks, again.” Keith also stood up, pulling a wallet out of his jacket and taking some notes out. “Keep the change.”

Shiro laughed, taking the cash and sliding it into his back pocket. “Very kind of you. Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“It’s fine,” Keith motioned to the bottle in his hand, “I’ve got soda.”

“Alright. I’ll be as quick as I can.” He turned away, climbing the ladder at the back of the room to search for the right part. “That’s a nice choice, by the way.”

“What, the Kawasaki?”

“Yeah! I’ve not seen a Tomcat in years.” Shiro was rifling through metal drawers, pulling out different boxes and checking the serial numbers. “It’s in really good condition, the guy must’ve cared about it a lot.”

“He gave me a pretty good price for it, too. I got pretty lucky.”

A comfortable silence fell over them, punctuated by the occasional scrape of tool chest drawers. Eventually, Shiro shouted in approval, sliding down the ladder with a brand new spark plug in hand.

“Got one!” He grinned, tugging open the box and dropping to his knees. “This’ll only take a moment, and then you can be on your way.”

Keith watched with mild fascination as Shiro worked, fingers effortlessly gliding around the bodywork to slide the part in and return his bike to the way it should be.

“That was quick.”

“Yeah, they’re not super hard to install but can be a little bit fiddly depending on where the engine sits.” Shiro held out Keith’s keys, offering them to him. “Want to try it out?”

Keith took them, shuffling over to the side of his bike and giving the ignition another try. With a roar, the engine immediately rumbled into life; Keith couldn’t hide the smile that broke out, wide enough to split his face in two.

“She’s alive again.” His voice had softened, as if he was speaking to a timid kitten.

“Should keep running for a while, hopefully.” Shiro began to pack his tools away, kicking the toolbox off to the side. “Any more problems, I’d be glad to take a look for you.” He pulled a business card from his overalls, passing it to Keith.

Keith took the card, ignoring the lack of custom, and carefully slid it into his wallet. Swinging his leg over his bike, he took his place on the seat and knocked the kickstand back into place with his foot. “I’ll remember that.”

“Take care, Keith.” Shiro smiled, giving him a two-finger salute.

“You too, Shiro. Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.” He gently rolled the bike out of the garage, grabbing his helmet from the doorway and sliding it on before dashing down the road, giving Shiro a quick wave before he disappeared.

Shiro had a feeling they wouldn’t cross paths again — a feeling he tried to shake, because Keith had a wonderful smile and he’d rather like to see it again.

* * *

 

Thankfully, some deity or another must have heard him; three weeks and one phone call later, those same steel eyes were looking at him once more.

“I think it’s a little worse this time.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“A very loud crunch. And then some whining.” Keith scratched idly at his cheek. “Maybe some other noises, but I cut the engine and wheeled it here manually.”

“Were you far?”

“Thankfully, no. Just the next street over.”

Shiro chuckled. “That’s some luck you have. Alright, bring it in and I’ll take a look.”

As soon as Keith rolled the bike through the garage shutter, the problem was immediately evident; the chain had come loose and shattered, leaving bits of metal behind as it dragged along the floor. The bodywork was scratched and torn where the chain had flailed against it, paintwork scuffed and peeling.

“Ouch.” Shiro visibly winced when Keith knocked the kickstand out and stepped back from the machine. “That looks like it hurt.”

“Me, or the bike?”

“Both! Are you okay?” Shiro turned to Keith, eyes glancing down his (very long) legs to search for signs of damage.

“I’m alright. The initial whip stung a lot, but there’s no actual injury.” He shrugged, swinging his leg as if to demonstrate that everything was okay. “Sorry to barge into your day again like this.”

“Hm? Oh, don’t be. Honestly, business is a little slow around this season, so you’re actually doing me a favour.” He smiled, moving to grab his toolkit from the nearby shelving unit and hoisting the bike onto a raising platform. “Let’s try get the rest of that chain out without causing any more damage.”

Shiro set to work immediately, pulling a creeper over and sitting himself on it. The panels of the bike were taken off with impressive speed, and the chain rescued from within.

Keith whistled at the pile of broken chain collecting at Shiro’s side. “Shit, that’s a lot of mess.”

“It’s thankfully not as bad as it could have been.” Shiro’s voice was a little muffled from behind the machine. “Doesn’t look like anything vital has been hit.”

“Oh, thank god.” Keith was audibly relieved, his voice free of the curt tension it held before. “Any damage in there?”

“Surprisingly? Not really. You’ve avoided a bullet here, Keith.” He wheeled himself back around to Keith’s side, pushing himself upright and brushing his hands on his overalls. “Mostly body work.”

“Can you fix it?” Keith’s eyes were wide, eyebrows lifted in hope.

Shiro laughed, motioning towards a room near the back of the workshop. “I built a spray room not too long ago, and I know a guy who deals with body repair.” He smiled, reaching over to rest his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “We can sort it, don’t worry.”

Keith returned the smile. “I really appreciate it. Will you need to keep the bike for a while?”

“I’ll see what Hunk’s availability is like, he might be able to come over today. Can you hang here for a sec?”

“Sure, I’ll wait.”

Shiro disappeared into his office to make the call, leaving Keith to watch over his bike. He sighed, leaning down to pick up one of the pieces of bodywork; running his fingers across the scratches, he glanced at the shattered chain on the floor and then up to the bike itself, laid bare on the lift. Keith knew it was an old model, but he had fallen in love with it the moment he set eyes on it — he just wasn’t expecting it to be this problematic. At this rate, his measly part-time wage wasn’t going to keep it afloat.

“Good news!” Shiro was leaning in the doorway, one hand on the frame and the other covering the phone.

With a huff of amusement, Keith noticed the thin curled wire jutting out of the bottom of the handset and disappearing into the room behind him. Shiro didn't have cordless? “How good is good?”

“If you’d like the job done, Hunk can be here in 10.”

“Uh.” He faltered, unsure of how to ask his next question in a somewhat polite fashion. “How… how much will it cost?”

Shiro held up a finger, obviously asking Hunk the same question. “He’ll do it for five-kay, said it should only be a quick job.”

He couldn’t believe his luck — Keith thought this was going to be at least 10 thousand yen. He nodded enthusiastically, and Shiro’s little chuckle wasn’t lost on him. He flashed a thumbs up and stepped back into the office, presumably to end the call.

“He’s on his way.” Shiro returned to the bike, carefully taking the part from Keith’s hands. “Once he’s sealed up the tears and buffed them out, I’ll give it a new coat of paint and we should have you outta here by sundown.”

“I… I can’t thank you enough.” Keith felt like he was on the verge of tears. “Your help means so much.”

“Hey, hey.” Shiro lightly punched Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t mention it. This  _ is _ my line of work, after all.”

“I know, but you’re so...  _ ready  _ to help.” He shrugged, rubbing at his shoulder. “Also wow, that really stings; what do you have under there, brass knuckles?”

Shiro’s face fell, realising he had genuinely hurt his customer. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” He clapped his hands together and bowed.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve had way worse.” Keith waved his hand, making Shiro stand straight again. “But seriously, that felt solid.”

“That’s because it is.” Shiro rolled up the sleeve of his overalls, slowly revealing the construction below. “I lost my arm a few years ago, and was out of business for half a year.” He tapped the prosthetic with his fingers; it sounded dense, a dull chime of thick metal. “Medical insurance sure is a lifesaver.”

Keith was gawking, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, I thought that was a glove or something, wow.” He paused, considering his next question. “What… happened?” Keith felt really rude asking, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Angle grinder.”

Keith hissed, wincing at the image suddenly filling his head. “Say no more.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. I lost a lot of customers during that time, I couldn’t pay my assistants properly and it’s been really hard getting the numbers back.” He sighed, pushing the sleeve back down. “Not that I blame anybody — if you need work doing, somebody has to do it.”

“I guess…” Keith was suddenly very lost for words. Shiro had just confided something very private with him, and he didn’t feel quite worthy of it. “I’m sorry for asking, that was out of line.”

“Don’t worry about it, I did sock you in the shoulder.” Shiro laughed, scratching at the back of his head. “Hunk shouldn’t be too long now; can I get you anything?”

“A bottle of water would be good, actually.”

“Got it. Hold tight a sec.” He stepped into the office once more and reappeared with two bottles in hand. “Fresh from the fridge.”

Keith took the offered beverage and cracked the seal, downing half the contents in one go. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he shoved the bottle into the pocket of his hoodie. As he turned to look outside, a large van pulled up, painted a lurid yellow.

“Ah, there’s Hunk.” He stepped past Keith, heading outside to greet the new arrival. Hunk stepped out of the driver’s cab and dropped to the floor, giving Shiro a powerful handshake and a clap on the back. They chatted for a moment before heading back inside to collect the damaged parts.

“You must be Keith.” He extended a hand, and Keith took it.

“Yeah, that’s me. Thanks for coming out on such short notice.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. I’m only a few blocks away, so it’s a cinch to drive over.” Hunk gave Keith’s bike a once over, noticing the damaged parts laying on Shiro’s creeper. “This all of it?”

“I think so, yeah.” Shiro squatted next to the pile, pointing out the worst-affected areas. “Took a look at the internals, seems to be okay.”

“Chain snaps can be really painful…” Hunk picked up the parts, giving them a closer look. “You came out of this pretty lightly!”

Keith chuckled, somewhat nervous around two people who absolutely know their stuff. “T-Thanks…”

“It shouldn’t take long to get this fixed up; I brought the mobile shop so I can get on it right away.” He began to walk back to the van, balancing the parts in his arms so he could open the rear doors. “I’ll give you a holler if anything comes up, but I’ll be back in no time at all!”

Shiro and Keith both gave him a thumbs up, turning to each other once again.

“Do you mind if I ask you something, Keith?”

Shiro’s softened voice caught him off guard, making him jolt slightly. “Sure, what’s up?”

“You’re working, right?”

“Yeah. It’s only part time, but it’s something.” He cocked an eyebrow, smiling. “Why, afraid I’ll hit and run on your payment?”

Shiro paused, taking a moment to understand his snide remark before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god, no!” He was completely unprepared for such a statement, and it hit him like a punch to the gut. “No, no. I was just wondering how you’ve been so close by; you don’t live around here, do you?”

Keith held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright chief, you got me.” Another smirk tugged at his lips. “I’m a delivery boy. Nothing glamorous, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, a job’s a job. I’m not gonna judge.” He looked over to Keith’s bike, a fond smile on his face. “I used to deliver newspapers. Had a little scooter; horrible sounding thing, but it got me from A to B and back so I couldn’t really complain.”

“How’d you get into motorbike repairs?” Keith had moved around, leaning on the bike lift to take some weight off his feet. “Seems like an odd jump.”

“I never said the scooter was flawless.”

“Ah. Self-taught?”

“Mostly. If you stare at instruction manuals for long enough they just… click, eventually.” Shiro shrugged, shifting his gaze to Keith. “Why deliveries?”

“College dropout.” Now it was Keith’s turn to shrug again. “Had to find something to do or I was gonna go insane. And, y’know, rent’s a thing.”

“Tell me about it.” Another laugh, and Shiro looked around the garage. “Although it’s nice that there’s living quarters attached.”

“Living quarters? You make it sound like a military bunker.”

“It might as well be! There’s only one bedroom and the kitchen is tiny.”

“Gets the job done though, right?”

“Sure does. Don’t need much in life when you’re single, I suppose.”

Keith let out a small “huh” noise, but was interrupted before he could elaborate — the doors to Hunk’s van opened up again, and he strode back into the garage.

“All patched up! The seal’s still a little wet, but it should be good to paint over.” Hunk carefully placed the repaired parts back onto the creeper, offering a beaming grin to the pair of them.

“Wow, that… was quick.” Keith blinked a few times, as if this could be some bizzare dream. “Thanks for your help, Hunk.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. Always glad to work on something new.” He gave Shiro a gentle nudge with his elbow. “The kid can pay for everything together, I’ll swing by and collect it next week.”

“O-Oh, are you sure? I can pay you now!” Keith fumbled for his wallet, but Hunk’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“It’s fine; I have a couple other payments to pick up, so this is easier for me.”

“If you’re sure?”

Hunk nodded. “Positive.” He pulled Keith into another firm handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Keith.”

“And you, Hunk. Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it!” He gave them both a small wave before returning to his van and reversing away.

“Alright, let’s get this baby a new lick of paint!” Shiro wheeled the parts over to the room in the back, grabbing a respirator from a hook on the wall. “I can’t let you in here, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to head off and come back when I’m done.”

“How long?”

“Half an hour, maybe a little more.”

“Eh, I’ll wait.” Keith pushed himself off the bike lift with a shrug. “You got a viewing window in that thing?”

Shiro paused, eyeing the second mask. “Can you stay out of the way?”

“You won’t even notice me.” Keith was already walking towards the booth, lips curving into a smirk.

“I’m not liable for any clothing damage, okay?” Shiro threw him the respirator. “Can you go grab the parts while I get set up?”

Keith was a man of his word, leaning against the door and keeping well out of Shiro’s way; he was incredibly thorough, masking out the various stickers and vinyls plastered over the bodywork as not to cover them in paint. 

“I bet that’s so satisfying to pull off later on.”

“You bet it is. Nothing like the noise of tape coming loose and revealing that pristine layer underneath.”

“Sure I can’t do anything?”

“I’m sure.” Shiro smiled, tugging a paint-coated apron over his head. “Just watch.”

Watching was something Keith was  _ very  _ good at; the flex of Shiro’s biceps was awfully alluring under the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves. Fifty minutes and some ‘help’ later, Keith was staring at a rack of parts drying outside; glistening in the sunlight, looking as fresh as the day they came out of the factory.

“Not bad, right?” Shiro was leant against the wall, half-eaten apple in one hand and a mug of green tea in the other.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m super impressed.” Keith crossed his arms, stepping closer to the rack to inspect Shiro’s work. “Alright, sarcasm aside, I’m genuinely amazed. These look brand new.”

“They’ll take a couple of hours to dry, unfortunately. I can’t make that go any quicker.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t want it to chip off or anything.” He walked over to Shiro, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “I can pay you now, whilst we’re waiting?”

Shiro shrugged. “Yeah, can do.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Hunk’s work was 5,000, so let’s double that and call it even - I’ll ignore your footprints all over my garage floor.” He finished the apple with a smirk, throwing the core into a nearby bin. “Or… You could take me out for dinner and we can continue where we left off earlier?”

Keith stopped midway through pulling notes out, almost choking on a splutter. “Di-Dinner?”

“Yeah, you know? A nice meal, a few drinks.” Another shrug. “Don’t let me force you, though. I’ll take the 10 thousand and leave it at that, if you’d rather.”

“Are… you asking me out, right now?” Keith wasn’t quite sure how to react. It was a pretty bold move, and he admired that. Shiro was a great looking guy, he’d been nothing but gracious towards him…

“I am, yeah.” He scratched his nose, not meeting Keith’s gaze. “Again, just say no if you want. I won’t be mad or anything.”

“We’ve got two hours until the paint dries, right?” He put the money back in his wallet, sliding it away again. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” Shiro finally looked at Keith again, face flushing with embarrassment. “You mean it?”

“I do. You’re a nice guy, no harm in giving it a try.” Keith smiled at him, and Shiro almost collapsed at the knees.

“O-Okay! Right, let’s get these inside and then I’ll lock up and we can go have dinner?”

“Sounds good to me.” Keith bumped his fist into Shiro’s shoulder.

Shiro’s previous bravado had all but melted away by now, rolling the drying rack inside with a shy smile on his face. “You’re sure about this?”

“Oh my god, Shiro.” Keith laughed, clapping his hand onto Shiro’s back. “Yes, I am.”

“Alright, just… checking.”

A few minutes later, the garage was locked up and Shiro had placed a hand-written note in the window explaining his absence.

“You changed your shirt?”

Shiro glanced down at the plain white button-up he’d thrown on with a fresh spray of deodorant. “Well, yeah… the other one was greasy.”

“Looked fine to me.” Keith began to walk, feeling Shiro catch up to him a few steps later. “So, where am I treating you?”

“You like sushi?”

“For you? I can do.” Keith’s smirk was back as he walked ahead again. “You coming? Or are you just gonna stare at my ass the whole way there?”

“Hey, I was  _ not  _ staring.”

* * *

 

“Okay, so.” Shiro put his beer back down, licking the remains of foam from his upper lip. “You have a little flat somewhere in Ikebukuro, and your dog that looks like a wolf is called Kosmo. With a K.”

“Correct.” Keith smirked around the rim of his bottle; melon ramune, his favourite.

“And it’s just you and your dog?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I think I got everything. Anything you want to know?” Shiro’s eyes roamed over the selection of sushi laid out between them, deciding on a lone prawn nigiri in the middle.

“Dated before?” Keith watched the rice disappear into Shiro’s mouth, laughing at the several loose grains stuck to his face.

“Several times.” He wiped himself down, swallowing properly to answer Keith’s question. “But they didn’t go anywhere.”

“Oh?” He sounded genuinely surprised, face falling a little at Shiro’s downtrodden expression. “What happened?”

Shiro pointed at his right arm, lifting it slightly off the table. “People find it kinda hard to see past the prosthetic.”

Keith actually scoffed, levelling Shiro with a look of disbelief. “You’re not serious?” He nodded. “That’s absurd. It’s just a part of you, isn’t it?”

“You’d think that.” The bitterness was obvious in his voice, and he wouldn’t meet Keith’s gaze. “But you can’t force people into stuff, y’know?”

“I guess. That’s still dumb.” Keith pointedly jabbed a maki roll into his dish of soy sauce, splashing the liquid over the sides. “I think you look great, metal arm or not.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” Shiro looked up at Keith again, and he could swear his cheeks were burning pink.

“It’s true.” Keith reached over, gently laying his hand on Shiro’s flesh one. “You’re a beautiful person, Shiro. And I admire how hard you’ve fought, even though people have left you behind.”

“Keith…” Shiro was definitely blushing now, the harsh lighting of the restaurant almost making him glow. He put his chopsticks down, a tiny clatter of wood hitting ceramic, and reached over to tuck Keith’s cheek into his prosthetic hand. “You’re a wonderful human; has anyone told you that?”

“You sound drunk.” Keith smiled, pressing back into Shiro’s touch. “I’m only doing what anyone else would.”

“Hey, I can hold my alcohol better than that.” He glanced between them. “Plate’s empty. Wanna head back and check the paint?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He kissed Shiro’s wrist, smirking at the gasp he pulled from the other man before falling into nervous chuckles. “Let me pay up and we’ll go.” Keith slid out of the booth, tripping up on himself slightly before flashing a wink and disappearing around the back of the seat.

Shiro felt giddy watching Keith saunter away on slightly wobbly legs. He’d not felt attracted to somebody for a long time — the accident had shattered his self-confidence, and the failed dates just made it worse. Keith was… different. Shiro felt cliché admitting that to himself, but it was true. They’d known each other for a total of two days, but Keith was already being more sympathetic and caring than most people he’d come into contact with recently. And, if he was honest, that’s all he needed - somebody who saw him as a human.

“Alright, we’re good.” Keith’s head re-appeared above the booth, smiling again.

“Thank you. I… really enjoyed that.” Shiro stood, grabbing his hoodie and sliding it over his head.

“No need, it was my pleasure.” Keith leant up, ruffling Shiro’s forelock back into shape. “You have good taste in eateries.”

“Family-run places are always the best.” He reached out, offering his hand to Keith. “Shall we?”

He slipped his hand into Shiro’s, linking their fingers together as he was led back outside. The sun had begun to set, casting a vibrant amber glow over the scenery. They walked in silence for a while, Keith tucked into Shiro’s side and falling in step with him.

“So…” He shifted to look up at Shiro. “Was that a success?”

Shiro chuckled, smiling widely. “I’d say so.”

“Mm.” Keith nodded, closing his eyes. “Me too.”

“Will you be able to get home later?”

“That depends entirely on you.” Keith squeezed Shiro’s hand gently. “How fast are you at putting a bike back together again?”

“Exceptionally, I’ve been told.” He shrugged, knocking Keith off-balance slightly. “But I could go slower, if you’d like to stay the night.”

“Ohh, how bold of you.” They both laughed, almost walking themselves into a vending machine. “But I’ll have to decline. Can’t leave Kosmo by himself without prior warning.”

“Ah. Understandable.” Shiro tried to disguise his disappointment — that was a decent reason to say no.

“How about next week? Actually, no.” Keith pulled his phone out of his pocket, awkwardly managing to unlock it one-handed. “This week, technically. Would you like to come over on Friday night? I’m sure Kosmo would love to meet you.”

“R-Really? I’d have to check when we got back…” That was a lie - Shiro knew his calendar was clear. “But it should be okay.”

“I’m looking forward to it already.” Keith tapped open the web browser on his phone, searching for a recipe site. “I can cook something for us, if you’d like.”

“Wow; you’re turning into quite the keeper, aren’t you?”

“I have my uses, yes.” He scrolled through a long list of cuisine choices, tapping on one at random. “Are you a fan of Chinese food?”

“Can’t say I’ve really had it.”

“It’s a really aromatic kind of dish, lots of subtle spices and fruity notes.” Keith held up the phone, showing Shiro a large steak. “Stuff like this, where it’s been marinaded overnight.”

“Ohh, that looks amazing. Can you make that?” Shiro was nodding his approval.

“Absolutely.” He swiped the app away, pulling up a to-do list. “I’ll grab the ingredients on my way home.”

The garage came into sight, and Shiro pulled away from Keith to go unlock the shutters. “Let’s see how that paint’s coming along.”

Keith hovered around the bay opening, waiting with baited breath to see the result of Shiro’s work. “How’s it looking?”

“Give me half an hour and it’ll be good as new.”

“You are a god among men, Shiro.”

“I try.” Shiro’s laugh echoed through the garage. “You hold tight, I’ll give you a shout when she’s ready!”

“Sure you don’t want a hand?” He stepped inside, leaning against the nearest wall.

“It’ll be faster with one person, trust me.”

“What, you’re saying I’ll just get in the way?”

Keith’s mock indignation drew another laugh from Shiro. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Need I remind you about the paint you tracked everywhere?”

He huffed in response, making a show of folding his arms and sulking. “Whatever.”

Twenty minutes later, Shiro wheeled Keith’s Tomcat over to the shutter doors, covered in a sheet. Keith raised an eyebrow, nodding to the covered machine.

“Is this a game show? Big reveal of the prize?”

“I thought you’d appreciate the suspense.”

“You have many things to learn about me, Shiro — patience is not a virtue I have.” Keith strode to the bike, taking one corner of the sheet and pulling it free. “Holy fuck.”

“Looks amazing, doesn’t it?”

Keith was speechless for a while, carefully walking around his bike and inspecting it, fingers gently sliding over the bodywork. “It looks absolutely brand new, what the fuck.” He looked over to Shiro, tears blurring the edge of his vision. “This is amazing.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay — don’t go crying on me.” Shiro pulled Keith into a loose hug, tucking his head into his shoulder. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“I love it.” Keith’s voice was muffled, burrowing his head into Shiro’s jacket. “Thank you…”

“You’re very welcome. A guy like you deserves a bike like that.”

“Shiro…” Keith pulled back, leaning up to meet Shiro’s eyes. He reached up, sliding one hand around the back of his neck, tugging him closer. Their breaths mingled as Keith closed the gap, gently pressing his lips against Shiro’s — they were cracked slightly but the taste of beer still lingered, and Keith hummed in relief when he felt Shiro push back. Shiro’s arms tightened around him, circling his waist and dragging their hips together; Keith couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped him, fisting one hand in the fabric of Shiro’s t-shirt. They were both gently panting as they parted, cheeks burning hot and hearts thumping loudly in their ears.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was frail, as if loud noises would shatter the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Does this mean we’re dating now?”

Keith’s face was unreadable for a moment, before he broke out into a bark of laughter. “I guess it does, yeah.”

“Is that okay?” Shiro slipped his thumb under the hem of Keith’s t-shirt, stroking small circles on the jut of his hip bone. “Would you  _ like _ to go out with me?”

He hummed, pretending to think Shiro’s question over. When Keith felt him start to squirm, he moved to kiss him once more. “I’d love to.”


End file.
